No Tricks, Just Treats

Sometimes you have such a fun weekend, and you want to express this to your IIFs, but you can't find a way to do it in words, in a way that truly expresses how much you love your actual factual friends, and how happy just being around them makes you. So you do it in pictures taken at the First Annual Tail Gate party, the Rutgers Homecoming Game, and Abel's Halloween Party. It goes something like this:

Tail Gate and Football Game


Alison, Amy, and Abel (who hosted the party later)


Chris and Big Mike (who put the whole tail gate thing together with finesse)

Halloween Party


Maggie the Cat and Meg, Sex Dr.

** Pictures have been deleted.

Things That Make Me Happy

(Because yesterday was horrible, and I want to go into this day with a good outlook.)

• My new job (even though yesterday I was hit in the back of the head with a book and punched); it is never boring
• The fact that I will be getting rid of my 3rd grade reading class at the end of November (because they made my observation yesterday go horribly)
• Being a Big Sister (even though, when I was half way home after dropping K off yesterday, she called me to tell me she left something in my car and I needed to turn around)
• The fact that the plant on my desk might be alive today because I watered it yesterday
• My Organized Bedroom with a place for everything
• The excitement of dating someone new
• Good Hair Days (today isn't one... it's pouring outsite... but tomorrow might be one!)
• Free clothes (My mom gave me a pair of her pants that aren't Mommish -- I'm wearing them today.)

Organized Living Update

If you have ever had a moment in which you found the need to ponder the question, "What has happened in my life to bring me to this very moment?" you have never watched your First Grade Teacher fold your thongs.

Because that happened to me today.

But here is the result:



Yes, those are my bras and underwear in baskets, separated according to color.

And remember those baskets from the last entry about my new Organized Self? This is the new home of their contents:



And how about my shoes:



...A far cry from the jumbled pile of shoes, purses, and trash that used to be on the floor in front of my closet... and everywhere else on the floor (as you can see below*).



* And yes, Christine, that is your baking pan... it's now in my car, along with that pair of shoes you were going to take, with a little Post-It that says "Return to Christine."

Another Lesson in Slang

But not a lesson from me, though I have been practicing.

The other day I was in the car with my Little Sister, and while waiting in a long line of traffic at the light, I yelled, "Come on, Peeps!!! Let's go!"

She looked and me and said, with all seriousness, "Don't ever say that again."

Me: What? Why? It's just me being corny...
Sis: Just don't, okay?
Me: Why? Am I not cool enough?
Sis: No, it's not that. You're cool an' all... you just shouldn't say that.
Me: Is it because I'm white?
Sis: No. *sigh* You know the Bloods and the Crypts?
Me: Yeah...
Sis: Well if you ever say that, and they hear you, they'll jump you.
Me: In Cinnaminson?
Sis: It doesn't matter where. Same with "How's it poppin'?" and "How's it crackin'?" Don't ever let anyone hear you say either of those things.
Me: Good to know.

Just thought I'd pass on the wisdom of this 10 year old, who apparently knows way more about the ways of the world than I do.

People find me...

... when they do internet searches for:

• oh the places you will go
• haircuts for middle aged women
• fake hair pieces
• cinnaminson blog
• conveyor-belt sushi in new jersey
• nail acrylic
• nanny diaries

I'm glad I'm reaching such a diverse, strictly brainy crowd ;o)

The Spitting Image...

Yeah, hi. I was spit on today.

And because I'm sure you're all "Ew!! What?!" I'll remind you that I teach a class full of kids with behavioral disorders.

And when you have a behavioral disorder, and you refuse to go into the classroom and are running around and screaming in the hallway, and we count "1, 2, 3," and you still don't come, and so two aides pick you up (in a way that has been approved as "safe" in necessary situations) and you start swinging your legs all over the place, and your teacher (me) has to grab your legs, and so you swat her in the back of the head (which hurt, by the way) and you are still being carried... you spit. You probably spit because you don't know what else to do with yourself. With your arms and legs being held, your mouth is the only thing left you have any control over.

But I will also clue you in on the fact that even when you are a teacher who knows that kids spit on people because they feel otherwise helpless, you still feel kind of humiliated. And you definitely feel like you want to cry after you've had a morning in which your classroom is still taken over by the school couselors, and your reading class was being really bad, and your supervisor popped in to find your reading class being really bad... well you end up on the verge of tears. And then, the only reason you don't actually cry (because people telling you "don't worry- everyone has those days," while nice, just makes you want to cry even more) is because your aide starts talking about dildos.

So then, at the end of the day, you see your secretly pseudo-aunt (mom's best friend from childhood who you don't tell anyone you know on a personal level because she played an instrumental role in getting your foot in the door in the district last year) and spill everything, and she promises you things will get better and tells you to smile. And so you finish cleaning up your classroom, make a list of things you need, and go do what always makes you feel better:

Shop.

And you spend another $100 on classroom supplies, only this time, since you are in an organizing phase, you stick almost entirely to organizing supplies (bins, baskets, etc). And then you get to the check-out, and you notice that the cashier only scanned one set of paper trays, so you tell here there were two there, and she thanks you and then tells you that the bottle of white board cleaner (which she had already scanned and bagged before you told her about the paper trays) "might be leaking." And it is. And you think about the fact that had you not helped her out by telling her about the paper trays, she probably wouldn't have helped you out with the leaky bottle.

And so then you remind yourself all about karma, and decide that you've just got to make the best out of what you were handed. An unfinished classroom... a bratty, noisy, unlistening reading class... a watchful supervisor... a spitter...

You've gotta have some good karma heading your way.

Organized Living: Phase One: Sorting

Today was the first day of AlmostOrganizedJess. It was basically a sorting day. Mrs. G. (because I can't call her by her first name since that's just weird because she was my first grade teacher) brought all sorts of bins with her, and they were all labeled, just like on TV! We had bins for Paperwork: Financial, Paperwork: School, Cosmetics, Hair Stuff, Jewelry, Medications and Vitamins, Shoes, Purses, Computer Stuff, Clothes, and Donate. And, there are about 4 bags of trash! I have to say, it was a lot of work, and there is still a lot more to tackle, but it felt great walking into my room after she left.

And so, without further ado...

Before

After (Phase One)

And check out these close-ups of the Sortedness:

Hair Stuff, Jewelry, Cosmetics, and Paperwork

Shoes... and lots of 'em!

Not bad, eh?

Fire in the hole!! I've been hit!!

I got tagged by Anika (who is Canadian).

1. If money were no object, what would you be doing with your life? I would definitely be traveling. I’ve never been anywhere tropical, I’ve never been on a cruise, and I’ve never been to visit my friend in Brazil. (Dude, plane tickets are expensive!! What’s with that?!) And also, I’d be shopping. A lot. And getting some form of plastic surgery, just because I could afford it.

2. Money is just that - an object, so why aren't you doing it? Because you need to have money to spend money, and right now, saving to move out of my parents’ house is higher on the priority list than sipping daiquiris on a sandy beach while a hot cabana boy rubs suntan lotion all over my body. Man, that’s upsetting. Thanks for bringing it up.

3. What's better: horses or cows? I’m gonna cop out here and go with a, “they are equally beautiful in their own way.” I don’t like this question. They are both better than birds. I freakin’ hate birds.

4. What do you think the secret to happiness is? Happiness would be the ability to be content with what you have at any given moment. But for now, I see lots of room for improvement. Happiness for me: my own place (sometime this year), job security (3 years from now, assuming I keep this job for the next 3 years), and true love (anyone’s guess).

5. When was the last time you had a dream that you either remember well or did not want to awake from? Can you share a bit? I really can’t think of any recent dreams I’ve had. Sorry the answer to this question sucks.

6. When you were a little kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a marine biologist because I wanted to play with dolphins. I did NOT want to be a teacher, because that’s what my mom is. I didn’t want people to think I was copying. Go figure.

7. Complete this statement: Love is...Never having to say ... “you make me feel like shit.”

8. Can you tell a good story? (write one!) Have you not read my blog? My friend Maggie often says to me, “remember the time…” and then will come out with some random funny time… and I’ll have to remind her that it was my story, and she wasn’t there. She always says, “but you told it so vividly, I felt like I was there!” Stay tuned.

9. Can you remember your last daydream? What was it about? It was about a certain boy… Ya know, cute guys always lead to lots of daydreams ;o)

Tag!
Megan
Dino
Kate

(Sorry guys, Anika got me, and Janie got Christine… and once the three of them were gone, you were all I had left!)

A Note to Middle-Aged Women at the Mall

Re: Your Hair

Please be advised that bi-level and asymetrical haircuts are no longer in style. Fake hair pieces are also discouraged.

You're welcome.

Jess' Bruise: Episode I

Here are my fabulous knees before that ugly bruise.


This photo was taken by Kate, who I am still trying to convince to be my personal photographer.

And We All Fall Down

Well, just me, really.

I thought my clumsiness left me when I graduated college and my ankles stopped turning on me all the time and people didn't look at me standing one second, turn their heads, and then turn around to find me sitting on the floor. I was couting on Christine for good stories like that.

So the janitor washes the floor in my classroom yesterday afternoon while I am staying late and working in the carpeted part of the room. I finish up what I was doing, and decided it was time to leave. At this point, I pick up my purse, my teacher bag, my roll of laminated calendar pieces to cut out, and my lunchbag, start to walk toward the door and...

BANG!!!

That's the sound of me falling. And "Are you okay?!" is the sound of the one person left in the building (besides me and the janitor) who happened to be walking past my room right at that moment.

Yeah. I was okay. Just a little embarrassed. I'd call it Breezy Elegance if that weren't K's phrase.

So anyway, here is the bruise to show that it really happened:



And a picture of my whole leg to put it in size perspective:



Don't mind the unfinished toenails* and the scarred up knee.** You're supposed to be looking at the bruise.

* I started getting my nails done, and therefore cannot use nail polish remover at risk of dissolving my acrylic. And I know about non-acetone but am too lazy and forgetful to go buy it.

** I was a soccer goalie for many years.

Only One Threw a Chair

“Hi Jess.  SpecialEdDirector is downstairs, and she and I would like to talk to you.”

These are not words you want to hear from the principal of the school where you work.  Going to the principal is still scary, even as an adult.

“Now?”  I asked.

“Yes, now.”

So thus began a journey.

The first journey was the one we took down the stairs.  Complete silence, except for the sound of my heart about to pound out of my chest, and the running monologue inside my head, Oh my god, did I do something wrong?  Are they going to reprimand me?  Are they going to FIRE me?!  And then, as we round the bottom of the staircase, he says, “Wasn’t it a beautiful weekend?”  And I think If you are about to fire me, please don’t try to make small talk about the weather, but I say, “Yes, it really was.”

I walk into his office, and there sits SED.  “Hi Jess.  How is life treating you?”  “It’s okay… I think…”

“Well here’s the thing…”

And it turns out that I’m not getting fired.  It turns out that the class of students with behavioral disorders is exceeding the legal limit of students, and so they need to create a second class, and they want me to teach it.

“This will make or break you,” SED says.  “If you can handle this, you can handle any class ever thrown at you.”

A little more discussion goes on, and apparently they are moving me into a room across from the existing BD (behavioral disorders) class, and giving another special ed teacher my position as a 3rd grade inclusion teacher.  From discussions I have had with others since Monday (when this discussion took place), they think I am “the one for the job,” and I guess they have their reasons for putting me down there and giving OtherTeacher my position instead of just giving OtherTeacher the BD class.  But still.

“Are you okay with this?” SED asks.  “Are you going to go home and cry?”

And I could truthfully say that it didn’t matter what they told me, because when you think you are about to get fired, and it turns out all they are doing is giving you a new class (even if they are the bad kids), you don’t go home and cry.

So at the end of yesterday (Tuesday), I had some time to go and observe the existing BD class.  I was kind of surprised.  For the most part, they were a little antsy, (as any kids would be at the end of the day) but pretty well behaved.  Seems the behavior plan they have put into place with these kids is really working.

And only one threw a chair.

I think this is where the real journey begins.